Murderer

Murderer-

The word comes once, it’s meaning not quite clear.

Murderer-

The word rings twice, but I don’t believe my fear.

Murderer-

The final call, it’s meaning now understood.

Murderer-

Thus ends the act, with it all things fair and good.

Murderer-

My dripping pen perched over white paper soiled with ink,

Staring blankly as tears, begin to roll down my cheek.

Murderer.

Oh God - what have I done?

A/N: This is, quite possibly, the creepiest poem I’ve ever written. And for those of you who are wondering, no – I didn’t actually kill a real person. I wrote this after writing a death scene of one of the more profound characters in one of my stories. I’ve killed off loads of characters before but, for some reason, after offing this one the word ‘murderer’ kept popping up in my mind. So, yeah. Hope you liked it and remember – reviews are the best way or showing you care! )